


Dedushka

by bambirosesavage



Series: Yuri's Angels [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Past Child Abuse, Retired Victor Nikiforov, kid yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambirosesavage/pseuds/bambirosesavage
Summary: Yuuri, Viktor, and Yuri make a trip to Moscow to visit Yuri's grandfather and learn more about Yuri's family





	Dedushka

“Whoops.” Viktor used a paper towel to clean up the milk Yuri had spilled from his cereal bowl. “Let’s clean that up. See? No harm done.” Yuri sat frozen in his highchair seat, staring at the little pool of milk on the pale yellow tray, and Yuuri made sure to stroke his hair while Viktor wiped up the spill. The boy had lived with them for a few weeks and had opened up and relaxed quite a bit, but there were still some behavioral issues they were working through and likely would be working through for a long time.

As always, food was a problem for the boy. He could finally eat solid food now, but had no self-control. Yuuri and Viktor had to be careful about how much food they gave him. No amount of reassurances that there would be more than enough food for later was able to convince Yuri to slow down when he ate or stop when he was full. To try to keep the child from making himself sick, Viktor and Yuuri served him tiny portions of food several times a day. Once he became accustomed to saying no to food when he was full, they would start to acclimate him to more regulated meal times.

Spills caused another problem for the boy. As a three-year-old, Yuri was a messy eater, so occasional spills and messes were bound to happen. However, the toddler was intent on eating the spilled food and got anxious whenever anyone cleaned it up instead of giving it back to him.

“It’s okay, Yura,” Yuuri reassured the boy when Viktor threw the soaked paper towel away. “Look. You still have some cereal left. Do you want some more milk for it?” He pressed the little spoon into Yuri’s hand again to get his attention.

The child’s fingers curled around the utensil automatically, and he blinked. “Milk,” Yuri repeated with a nod and got back to finishing his afternoon snack.

Yuuri’s phone rang as he poured some more milk into Yuri’s bowl. Viktor took the phone out of his husband’s back pocket. “It’s Mrs. Lodovskya,” he told him before answering it. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Lodovskya. How are you today?”

“Viktor, hello,” the case worker greeted. He could hear the soft murmur of chatter in the background and the sound of a printer working noisily. The new foster parents had yet to visit the woman at her office, but the place always seemed abuzz with activity. “I’m doing fine, thanks. I thought I was calling Yuuri’s number, but no matter, so long as I reach one of you. How is little Yuri doing?”

“He’s doing well,” the coach answered, a little confused. Mrs. Lodovskya, while a wonderful and helpful case worker, had never called solely to check up on the boy. “He just got up from his nap, and now we’re having an afternoon snack before dinner.”

“Excellent. I could use a snack about now, too, or a nap,” she laughed. “I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to let you know I heard from Nikolai Plisetsky, Yuri’s grandfather, this morning.”

“Oh?” Viktor knew very little about the child’s grandfather, just like the rest of Yuri’s family, besides the fact that he was retired and lived in a nursing home. And, of course, that he had been the one to report the mother for neglecting Yuri in the first place. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, yes, he’s fine. He wanted to know how his grandson was. I didn’t give him your phone number, of course, but I know he would like to talk to you and Yuuri and meet the people taking care of his grandchild."

“We’d love to meet him too!” Viktor gushed, and Yuuri eyed him warily. The older man had a bad habit of committing to plans without checking with his husband to make sure it was something they could actually do. Viktor didn’t catch the look and bustled around the kitchen looking for pen and paper. “Do you have his number on you? I’ll call right away and set something up.”

“I have it here somewhere. Let me see.” After much rustling of paper, she recited the phone number to the silver-haired man. “Just to let you know,” Mrs. Lodovskya said, “Mr. Plisetsky lives in Moscow. You should take that into consideration before committing to a visit.”

“That is quite far to go,” Viktor agreed. “I’ll talk to my Yuuri about it. We’ll work something out.”

“What was all that about?” Yuuri asked once Viktor hung up.

“I think we should plan a trip to Moscow. Maybe go for the weekend.”

“Moscow?” Yuuri wrinkled his nose. He had nothing against the city, but it was so far away from St. Petersburg, and he wasn’t sure how Yuri would react to such a long trip. If Viktor wanted to go away for the weekend, why not go somewhere closer? “What’s in Moscow?”

“Yuri’s grandfather. He wants to meet us.”

“Oh.” Yuuri brought the child’s empty bowl to the sink and rinsed it out. “That’s different. I’d like to meet him, too. Yuri’s mom is his daughter, right? And he’s the one who called her in. Maybe we could get him to convince him to talk to Mrs. Lodovskya about staying with us instead of going back to his mom.”

“Maybe,” Viktor cautiously allowed. He lifted Yuri out of his highchair and set him down. “Or maybe it would just be nice to make a new friend. Yura, where are your blocks? I want to play blocks.”

As the child ran off to get his blocks, Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist and pulled him into a hug. “I don’t want Yuri to leave us any more than you do, but I don’t think we should talk about it in front of him, do you? She’s still his mama, and he misses her.”

The skater flushed at the admonishment. “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just… he’s doing so well. He’s happy. He’s gaining weight. We’re doing something right, something his mother wasn’t doing.”

“And Mr. Plisetsky will see that,” Viktor agreed. “But we don’t need to let our angel think we’re trying to steal him away from his family.” He gave the younger man a kiss and a final squeeze, and led the way to the den where Yuri and his blocks were waiting.

* * *

 

Yuuri let Viktor make all the arrangements for their trip. He knew he could get a little controlling and, well, neurotic when it came to what he thought was best for Yuri. It was something he knew he needed to work on. Viktor was responsible and incredibly attentive in his care for both Yuri and Yuuri. He didn’t hover over the boy like Yuuri did, waiting for something to go wrong; he was too spontaneous for that. Instead, he offered new ideas when things didn’t go according to plan with an easy smile and shrug of the shoulders. The trip to and from Moscow was no different. When he couldn’t find an available flight for that weekend, the coach immediately turned to plan B without batting an eye and booked round trip train tickets instead.

The night before they were set to depart for Moscow, Yuri had a hard time settling down to sleep. Yuuri had bushed the boy’s hair until his hand cramped, but still Yuri fidgeted, too excited to see his grandfather to sleep.

“He color with me?” he asked as Yuuri tucked him in. “Do he know Rapunzel? I wanna take color book.”

“I know, angel. We packed it this afternoon, remember? We have colors and clay and bubbles all packed. But now it’s time to sleep. We have to get up early early tomorrow.” But Yuri just kicked his feet against the mattress and grinned. Yuuri sighed. The child was too cute to be annoyed at for long. “How about a story? Would you like a story? Viktor!” he called instead of giving Yuri time to answer. Viktor was better at story time than he was. The coach was naturally more animated and lively when he spoke. Yuuri spoke Russian passably well, but he and Viktor always spoke in English to each other when Yuri wasn’t around or listening. Yuri was still gaining vocabulary and learning to string together complete sentences, and Yuuri couldn’t help to feel self-conscious regarding his own abilities with the language.

“What’s this?” Viktor poked his head into the child’s room. “I thought it was bedtime.”

“Story!” Yuri bounced and the mattress squeaked.

“Somebody’s not sleepy yet,” Yuuri told him.

“Uh oh.” Viktor took a book from Yuri’s shelf and squeezed into bed next to the little boy. “Are we going to stay up all night then?”

“I guess so,” Yuuri played along. “What story did you pick?”

“'The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights,'" said Viktor as he thumbed through the large volume of Russian fairy tales to find the one he wanted. Yuuri frowned at the title. He’d never realized how dark and downright gruesome so many fairy tales were until Yuri came to them. There were always wolves and monsters and evil kings and queens trying to kill the heroes. Maybe these stories would be more appropriate when Yuri got older, but Viktor insisted on reading them to the three-year-old, claiming that all Russian children should know these characters and their stories, so Yuuri kept his mouth shut. To Viktor’s credit, he was careful to edit out all of the especially scary or bloody parts of the story, giving the child a simplified version of the tale rather than reading it word for word. Yuri couldn’t read yet, so he never knew the difference. Besides, he was always too entranced by the illustrations to notice if Viktor was leaving anything out.

“Who that?” the boy asked, pointing to a picture of a crying woman with a crown on her head.

“That’s the princess’s mommy,” Viktor began the story. “She’s sad because her husband the king had to go away for a long time, and she misses him. The princess is still a teeny tiny baby. She’s so teeny tiny that she’s still inside her mommy’s tummy, and the queen is afraid the king isn’t going to come home before the princess gets so big she has to come out.”

Yuuri and Yuri listened to the story, which sounded a lot like Snow White to the skater. Yuri pointed at the pictures, and Viktor focused the story around what was going on in them. The coach kept his voice gentle and even as he read, giving each character just enough flair to keep Yuri engaged. By the time the prince saved the princess from her crystal coffin, the boy was more asleep than awake. Even so, Viktor kept reading until the end of the story, though Yuuri was sure the child never heard a word of it.

“So much for staying up all night,” Yuuri laughed under his breath as he and Viktor crept carefully out of the boy’s bed and tucked him in. The skater gently tweaked Yuri’s nose. “He’s out like a light.”

“We should go to bed soon too,” Viktor said once they were safely out of Yuri’s room. “We have an early start tomorrow.”

“Too early,” Yuuri whined. “What time did you set the alarm for?”

“4:30. The train leaves at 5:35, so we should have plenty of time to get ready and get there.”

Yuuri groaned. As loathe as he was to get up so early, he knew it was for the best. They were trying to keep Yuri on a consistent schedule, and the early train would disrupt it the least. The train was scheduled to arrive in Moscow at 9:30, so the idea was that Yuri could sleep through the entire train ride and wake up in time for breakfast when they arrived at the hotel. All of this was for the best, but Yuuri wasn’t much of an early riser. Even Viktor looked a little worse for the wear when he woke Yuuri before the sun came up.

“It’s time, my love,” the Russian man whispered in his ear and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Yuuri scrunched up his face but opened his eye to look at his husband. Viktor had already washed his face and styled his hair, but the droop to his eyes and the bags beneath them betrayed how tired he was. “Shall I start the coffee?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Yuuri volunteered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Just give me a minute.”

Viktor got dressed and busied himself with putting Yuri’s luggage in the car and taking Makkachin outside. Yakov had promised to come over to feed and walk the dog while they were out of town, but Viktor still hated leaving her behind. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”

Makkachin licked his hand and wagged her tail, and Viktor took that as a yes. When he came back in, Yuuri was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping at his coffee while a cup for Viktor steamed beside him.

“I still have to brush my teeth,” he told the coach. “I’ll bring our bag out when I’m done. I want to pack some extra snacks for Yura, too. I hope he sleeps through the trip there, but I want to have something for him to eat in case he doesn't and gets hungry. I also need to make sure we have enough diapers for him.”

“It’s not like they don’t have diapers in Moscow,” Viktor reminded him with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, but it’s stupid to buy a whole new pack there when I could just take the ones we already have.”

“Whatever you think is best. You’re in charge of the diaper situation. Is he up yet?”

“Not yet. I was thinking we could leave him in pajamas until we got to the hotel. We’re leaving so early so he can sleep anyway.”

“Good point. We should change his diaper before we leave though.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agreed. “Men’s rooms never have baby changing stations, and I’d like to avoid trying to change his diaper on a moving train if we can. I’ll go do that now.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Viktor insisted. He drained his coffee cup and dutifully loaded it into the dishwasher. “Is there anything you need me to grab for you while I’m upstairs?”

“I don’t think so. Did you pack his toothbrush?”

“I put it in last night.” Viktor climbed the stairs to the child’s room. Yuri slept with the blankets pulled up to his nose, and his hair was a silky web of tangles. He looked so small in the giant bed. It was a grownup’s bed, but the room was definitely a child’s. Children’s books sat on the shelves and colorful scribbles by Yuri, and careful drawings of flowers, lions, and ice skates, by Viktor and Yuuri, decorated the once bare walls. Toys and art supplies sprawled across the top of the low dresser, which was crammed full with tiny pants, shirts, and pajamas. The room even smelled like the boy: a mix of apple shampoo and baby wipes.

The man fetched the wipes and a clean diaper and brought them to the bed. Yuri stirred when he pulled down the covers. The child blinked at him from under heavy lashes as Viktor changed him out of his wet diaper as fast as he could, never fully waking up, though he did let out an unhappy whine when the cold air met his naked skin.

Viktor shushed him. “It’s okay, angel. It’s only me.” Instead of trying to wrestle the sleepy boy into coat and boots, the man settled with wrapping him up in a soft, warm lambswool blanket and putting a knit cap over his messy hair. “Let’s go see Dedushka.”

* * *

 

The drive to the train station went by quickly despite the snow falling softly outside. There were very few cars on the streets so early, and they boarded the train with time to spare. The seats Viktor had booked for them were nice; there was plenty of leg room, and they could recline and prop their feet up to make the four hour trip more comfortable. Not for the first time, Yuuri was thankful for all the sponsorships, commercials, and TV appearances Viktor did during his career and even now as a sought after personality that made their comfortable lifestyle affordable. Yuuri had his own sources of income, mostly coming from commercials in Japan, but as he spent so much of his time using his dual citizenship to live and train in Russia, these opportunities weren’t as numerous as Viktor’s.

“This is lovely,” he told Viktor as they settled into the plush seats. “It certainly beats driving all that way.”

“I’m happy you like it,” said Viktor in a whisper as not to disturb the sleeping toddler in his arms. “Perhaps if everything goes well today, we can make a habit of this.”

“I really hope it does. I’m so nervous to meet him. He’s Yuri’s only reliable family. What if he doesn’t like us? What if he wants him placed with another family?”

“Of course he’ll like us. Don’t worry about it,” Viktor reassured him as he sat down. The chair was lower than he expected it to be, and fell into it with an unintended groan. The child stirred at the jarring movement, scrunching his face up and making a little noise in the back of his throat. The coach patted his back to try to lull him back to sleep, but Yuri squinted his eyes open against the train’s overhead lighting.

“Good morning, angel,” Yuuri greeted the boy, wiping the crusts of sleep out of boy’s eyes. “Are you ready to wake up?”

Yuri’s bottom lip jutted out, and his breath hitched. He reached out to Yuuri, who broke into a smile and scooped him up.

“Oh, I know. Waking up early is hard, isn’t it?”

“Especially if it’s not where you fell asleep,” Viktor added. He put the armrest dividing the seats up out of the way and moved in closer to share the blanket Yuri was wrapped in with Yuuri. The two men huddled together with the child snuggled in between them.

Yuri rubbed his tiny nose into Yuuri’s shirt and whined, eliciting a coo from Viktor, who leaned over and pecked the side of the little boy’s head. As he woke up more fully, he blinked at his surroundings, obviously a bit confused. He sat up on Yuuri’s knee and looked around. “Where this?”

“We’re on a train!” Viktor told him, just as peppy now at half past five in the morning as he was at five in the afternoon. “It’s going to take us from here alllll the way to Moscow!”

“Where Makk-in?” Yuri looked around as though expecting to see the poodle hiding under their chairs.

“She had to stay home, but we’ll see her tomorrow,” said Yuuri. “Our friend Mr. Yakov is going to take really good care of her while we’re gone.”

“Wanna show Dedushka her,” Yuri complained.

“Maybe you can draw a picture of her for him,” Viktor suggested. “That way he could keep it just like we keep Makkachin.”

The boy seemed satisfied with that idea as he dropped the topic in favor of tugging the beanie off his head. His fine hair stood straight up from the static, and Yuuri laughed as he smoothed it down. “What do you think of the train?” he asked. “Isn’t this pretty neat?”

Yuri sighed dramatically and flopped back down onto Yuuri’s chest. “It bright.”

“They’ll turn the lights off once people are done getting on the train. Are you still sleepy?”

The child shook his head, stubborn, but his yawn told the truth. Yuuri shared a knowing look with Viktor, who cuddled in closer and brushed his long fingers through Yuri’s hair. The boy slowly sank back against them, using Viktor’s arm as a pillow and watched as other passengers filed into the train. Yuuri hummed a song from _Tangled_ and slid his hand under Yuri’s shirt to rub small circles into his back. He tried to ignore the stark line of the boy’s spine that pressed rigid and all too sharp against his palm.

Yuri was still much too small for a boy his age even though he had managed to put on some weight during his stay with his foster parents. The skater could still see the gaunt, sallow little face Yuri had had when he first came to them when he looked at him. His cheeks were fuller now, and his eyes were brighter, happier, and livelier. His skin wasn’t as papery or pale. He was getting better. They were making him better, he and Viktor. But as Yuri sighed out a sleepy breath against his neck, Yuuri could feel the child’s ribs pressing against him through both their clothes. Would Nikolai know how far the boy had come? He was still so fragile, and he tired easily. His eating habits had to be carefully monitored, and his vocabulary was limited even for that of a three-year-old’s.

As he watched, Yuuri saw other children board the train. All of them were older than Yuri, but they all looked so much stronger and confident than the little boy fighting sleep in his arms. He found himself wondering if Yuri would ever grow to be as healthy as those kids. The anger he had buried rose up in him again. Maybe he had been spoiled by his own parents as the only son, but he never had to wonder if they loved him. They seemed only too happy to talk to him and cook his favorite meals when he was upset or sad. His father drove him to the rink on days it was too cold or rainy to catch the bus. His mother bragged about him to her friends, her customers, and even strangers she ran into on the street or in line at the market. It wasn’t fair that Yuuri had had all that, and Yuri did not. And now he was on his way to meet the man who had raised the woman who had treated a child so badly.

Viktor squeezed his hand and pulled him from his thoughts. “Are you alright my love? That vein in your forehead is sticking out like it does when you’re mad.”

Yuuri forced himself to take a deep, slow breath before answering. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

Viktor leaned over Yuri to kiss his husband, unconvinced. “Everything is going to be just fine, I know it.” He kissed him again. “Isn’t that right, Yura?”

Yuri grunted a barely audible mumble of an answer around his thumb. He wasn’t quite asleep yet, but Yuuri doubted he would last longer than another two minutes before sleep took him again.

“We have close to four hours,” the coach said once the train finally lurched into motion and Yuri’s breath was soft and even. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep too? 4:30 is a horrible time to start the day. Everything will be much better at nine, you’ll see.”

* * *

 

“Darling, don’t you think this is a bit much?” Yuuri asked, stopping dead in his tracks as soon as he entered the hotel room.

“What? Don’t you like it?” Viktor garbled around the key card in his mouth as he struggled to bring in their luggage all by himself. The bellhop who had met them at the lobby had offered to bring up their bags for them, but Yuri, who was only partially awake and aware, took one look at the young man and started screaming. Apparently waking up to a stranger being so close to him had frightened him, so Viktor took the luggage himself while Yuuri comforted the toddler. Yuri had calmed down once they were in the elevator. They let him push the button for their floor, which lit up and made him smile again.

“No, I do,” Yuuri assured him. “But we’re only here for one night. We don’t need this much space for one night.” The room Viktor had arranged for them wasn’t really a room at all but a suite. The living room had a sofa and love seat gathered around a large flat screen television mounted to the silky blue wall. Through the open door of the bathroom, Yuuri could see an oversize Jacuzzi style tub and gleaming marble floors. He set Yuri down, who flopped down onto the soft cream carpet and rubbed the plush strands between his fingers, to help Viktor bring the bags into the bedroom.

“I know it’s a bit big,” the coach admitted. He put the bag he and Yuuri were sharing on the cushioned bench at the end of the king sized bed. “But the manager here is a fan, and she gave me a suite for the same price as a regular room, so there was no reason not to take it. Besides, having separate rooms will make it easier for us when Yuri’s bedtime comes. He’s not too big for a crib yet, is he?”

“What?”

Viktor pointed to something behind him. A crib was set up across the room from the bed and dressed in crisp white sheets the skater wasn’t sure was practical for a baby.

“Maybe?” Yuuri guessed. “He is really small. Let’s see. Yura!” he called.

Yuri came tottering into the room, trailing his blanket behind him. “Found you!”

“You did!” Viktor cheered. “Come here and let me see you.” He picked the child up and placed him in the crib. Yuuri couldn’t help but let his smile slip a little. The boy was three; he shouldn’t be able to fit so well in a crib meant for an infant.

Yuri kept his little hand wrapped around one of the bars as he looked down at the firm mattress under his feet. He bounced, the dark wood creaking as he did so. Viktor steadied the crib with his strong hands, slamming them down. Yuri jumped, startled and fell to his knees.

“Oh no!” Viktor immediately apologized before the boy could start to cry. “Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.”

Yuri didn’t pay attention to what the man said, peering through the bars. “Cage?” he guessed.

“No, angel, it’s a crib,” Yuuri explained, trying not to sound sad. “It’s like a little bed. Do you think you can sleep here?”

“Now?”

“No, tonight at bedtime.”

Yuri shrugged and held up his arms. “Out.”

“Out,” Viktor agreed.

Satisfied that the child could fit into the crib, the adults busied themselves with unpacking their things to make the suite feel more like home while Yuri explored the space with Kotonok. The child was restless now that he was fully awake and surrounded by new sights and sounds. He climbed onto the love seat to look out the window at the cars down below. He pressed his little nose against the windowpane to peer into the parking lot. After a few seconds, he hopped down and continued his exploration. The bathroom delighted him. “So big!” he declared as he tossed the battered tiger into the empty tub.

“It is huge, isn’t it?” Yuuri remarked. He put everyone’s toothbrushes by the sink. There was no stool for Yuri to stand on, he noticed, but there was plenty of space on the counter top around the sink for him to perch on. “I have a surprise for you at bath time tonight if you’re good today when we see dedushka.”

“Surprise?” Yuri asked with an excited hop. “Is it boat?”

“Nope,” Yuuri drawled out. “I’m not telling, or else it won’t be a surprise.” He mimed zipping his mouth shut, much to the child’s amusement. The man bent over so Yuri could try to force his mouth open. The skater tried not to think about all the germs he knew were crawling on the boy’s fingers as he attempted to poke them though Yuuri’s lips to try to get the secret out of him.

“What’s going on in here?” Viktor traipsed in, following the sound of Yuri’s laughter. “Yuuri my love! Fingers are not for eating, even if they are the cutest fingers in the world.” He scooped Yuri up and flung him over his shoulder. The boy shrieked and kicked his feet. “Really,” Viktor played, ignoring the child yelling happily in his ear, “if you’re that hungry we should go to breakfast.”

Breakfast went smoothly enough. There was an American style bistro not far from the hotel, and the small family walked there with Yuri between the adults, clutching their hands and laughing when they swung him up by his arms. At the restaurant Yuri ate tiny portions of both men’s meals rather than having a plate of his own. Even a child’s meal was much too large a portion for the child to handle. Viktor and Yuuri spoon fed him so there was less of a chance making too much of a mess.

Back at the hotel, the foster fathers tried to keep the child occupied. As a toddler, Yuri had an extremely short attention span on the best of days. Now that he so stimulated by being in a new place, Yuri couldn’t focus on anything for long. Cartoons played on the television, and Yuuri spread out the play mat he’d brought for Yuri. The cartoons Yuri ignored completely, and the modeling clay only held attention for so long before he grew antsy once again. They went through several more activities with the child, all only holding Yuri’s attention for a few moments before he became disinterested again. He refused to go down for his nap after lunch as well.

“If he’s not going to sleep, I guess we might as well call Mr. Plisetsky and see if he would mind if we came over a little early,” Yuuri suggested. He was starting to get frustrated with the toddler, even though he knew that Yuri wasn’t doing anything wrong. He couldn’t reasonably expect a three-year-old to stick to a routine so far removed from his usual surroundings. Yuri seemed to know that they were there to see his grandfather, though as far as either foster parent and the social worker knew, the child hadn’t been to visit the man since he was a baby. He did, however, try to take Viktor’s and Yuuri’s phones whenever they got them out, and they knew that Yuri’s mother would talk to her father on the phone with the child on a somewhat regular basis.

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Viktor said.

Yuri perked up from his place on the sofa where he had been disinterestedly looking through his vocabulary game cards when the coach pulled out his phone. “Dedushka?”

“We’re going to go see him soon,” Yuuri promised. “Come here and let me do your hair all nice for him.”

“Do brush?”

“Yes, we’ll do brush,” Yuuri broke out into a smile. “Do you think you can get the brush for me?”

“Where is?” Yuuri asked, sliding down off the couch.

“In the bathroom by the sink.” While Yuri ran off to the bathroom, the Japanese man went to the bedroom to search for the little bag of hair supplies he’d brought along. Since Yuri loved having his hair played with so much, and because the boy’s hair was undeniably beautiful, Yuuri had been trying to teach himself how to braid so he could do more than simply brush the child’s hair. Besides, having long messy hair that constantly got in the way and in his eyes could be a bit of a nuisance for a little boy, and braiding it back was more stylish than wearing a headband all the time.

Yuri returned with the brush and sat down in Yuuri’s lap, already used to the routine of getting his hair pulled back. The French braids the skater managed to weave were a little messy and probably too loose to stand up to much activity on Yuri’s part, but they weren’t terrible. Yuuri’s braiding skills had improved over the past couple weeks, though Viktor was still the better braider by far.

“You look so pretty, angel!” Viktor complimented as he came into the room after getting off the phone. Yuuri had styled the boy’s hair into two little French braids on either side of his head, meeting in the back with the rest of the unbraided hair to form a ponytail Yuuri secured with an elastic. “My Yuuri did a wonderful job. Do you want to see it, or should we go see Dedushka now?”

“Go!”

* * *

 

The nursing home was much nicer than Yuuri was expecting it to be. Rather than the hospital-like building he was expecting, Viktor, Yuri, and he arrived at a large complex that was more like an upscale set of apartments. The skater followed his husband with Yuri in tow, trying not to look too out of place. The lobby of the retirement home was spacious with comfortable-looking armchairs and card tables tucked into corners. A group of elderly ladies were drinking tea at a table by a large stone fireplace while their husbands played dominoes on the other side of the room. Looking up, Yuuri saw that the lobby was open to the floors above so that he could see apartment doors lining the walls for five levels. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a slightly golden light around the room.

After checking in at the front desk, the foster family was led by a nurse to the elevators. “Mr. Plisetsky is on the fourth floor, room 407,” he told them. “I know he’s been looking forward to your visit. Please make sure to sign out in the lobby before you leave.”

Outside room 407, the family hesitated for a moment. “It will be fine,” Yuuri forced himself to say. “We don’t have anything to worry about.”

“That’s right.” Viktor nodded encouragingly, though the skater noticed his hands shook as he knocked on the door.

Mr. Plisetsky opened the door as soon as Viktor knocked, as though he’d been standing at the door, waiting to answer it. He was a tall man with longish grey hair and the same blue-green eyes as his grandson. At the sight of him, Yuri hid behind Yuuri’s legs.

“Mr. Plisetsky, I’m Viktor Nikiforov, and this is my husband Yuuri,” Viktor plunged ahead. “We’ve so been looking forward to meeting you.” He shook the man’s hand and Yuuri bowed respectfully. He knew bowing wasn’t the custom like it was in Japan, but it was too ingrained in him to stop doing it automatically. His face flushed a little, but Mr. Plisetsky only smiled and bowed in return.

“I’ve been looking forward to today as well,” he told them in a soft, gentle voice. “Please come in.”

His rooms, while small, were just as grand as the lobby. Everything was painted a lovely, warm yellow, and a tea set was out on the small kitchen table. “Can I take your coats?” the older man asked courteously, his eyes resting on his grandchild, who was still trying to hide.

“Come here, Yura,” Viktor called. “Do you remember your dedushka?”

“It’s fine if he doesn’t,” Mr. Plisetsky said quickly. “It’s been a long time.” But Yuri peered up at him and nodded shyly. The man’s smile lit up the room. He squatted down to the child’s level, but kept his distance so he wouldn’t overwhelm the boy. “How are you doing today, Yurachka? Are you having fun in Moscow?”

Yuri whispered something into Viktor’s ear rather than answer his grandfather directly.

Viktor laughed. “He says you’re too tall.”

Mr. Plisetsky laughed as well. “I guess I am! He’s gotten so tall, too. I remember when he was just a baby. Here,” he stood back up and picked up something from the kitchen counter. “I got this for you.” He held out a honey brown stuffed rabbit with a red ribbon around it’s furry neck to the boy. “A new friend for Kotonok.”

“You know about Kotonok?” Yuuri asked.

“Of course!” the man laughed. “I bought it for him. He does still have it, doesn’t he?”

“He brings it with him everywhere,” Viktor assured him. “It’s in his backpack even now!”

“What do you say, Yura?” Yuuri reminded the child.

“Thank you,” Yuri murmured as he took the toy. He stroked the rabbit’s long ears and rubbed the ribbon between his fingers.

“Shall we sit?” Mr. Plisetsky suggested, gesturing to the small living room. “Mr. Nikiforov,” he addressed Yuuri, “I’m afraid I don’t know much Japanese, but would English be better for you? I know it must be difficult to always speak in a third language.”

“Oh!” Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Plisetsky.”

“Please, Nikolai is fine with me,” the man said, waving the formalities away. “Do you mind if I call you Yuuri?”

“No, not at all!”

“Yura brought you some presents as well,” Viktor told Nikolai as he took his seat. “Angel, do you want to show him your pretty drawings? Bring me your backpack.” The little boy toddled over obediently with his small tiger-print bag and let the coach dig through it. Over the past week, Yuuri and Viktor had helped Yuri draw pictures and write notes for his grandfather. Mostly, the adults did their best to draw anything Yuri asked them to, and then the child would color them. The majority of the pictures were of dogs, cats, Makkachin, Viktor and Yuri, and Rapunzel. The couple also made sure to include several prints of the numerous photos Viktor had taken over the past few weeks.

“Wow!” Nikolai praised, beaming at the child, who smiled shyly. “These are great! Did you do these?”

“Uh huh.” Yuri kept his eyes down when he talked to his grandfather.

“These are amazing! Do you think you could show me how you color these?”

“Yeah!” the boy answered, more enthusiastically this time. He took his bag back from Viktor to pull out his coloring book and crayons, and lay down on the floor to color.

Nikolai sat back in his armchair and gazed down at the child coloring as he lay on the rug. “He’s so big,” he murmured almost sadly. “I can’t believe how big he is.”

“When did you last see him?” Viktor asked softly.

“I used to call them with the camera thing on the phone every week. Yelena didn’t always answer, but when she did, she would let me see him. But in person...” he trailed off. “Maybe a year ago? A year and a half? I don’t remember.” A sigh gusted out of him. “He looks so much like her.”

“She must be very beautiful then,” Yuuri gave a nervous smile and hoped his compliment didn’t sound so awkward. He didn’t want to insult to woman to her father, but the only things he knew of her were that she had neglected her small child and was in rehab for alcoholism.

Nikolai accepted the strained bit of praise and go up to fetch them a framed photograph from the shelf. “These are my girls.”

Two blonde teenagers smiled from the photo, identical down to the dimples. They shared Yuri’s golden hair and blue-green eyes. They had Yuri’s small mouth as well, but none of his petulance or gaunt features. They looked happy with snowflakes swirling in their long straight hair that peeked out from their woolen hats, one blue and one pink.

“Twins,” Viktor grinned.

“Yes. My wife had uncles who were twins, so we weren’t entirely surprised with them. Varvara was so excited when the doctor told us. She dressed them in matching outfits until they were ten, I think. They hated that,” the elderly man laughed. “The girls always looked alike, but they couldn’t be more different. Yelena,” he pointed to the girl in the pink hat, “was always more reserved and quiet. Very studious and sharp as a whip, but shy. Yekarina though,” he chuckled as he tapped on the blue-hatted girl. “She was certainly a handful. Outgoing. Maybe a little too outgoing to tell you the truth. Varvara and I were always afraid she was going to get herself into some sort of trouble. We were relieved when she got into skating.”

“She’s a skater?” Viktor asked, perking up.

“Yekarina was a beautiful skater. She was made for it. Varvara always said so. When Mrs. Lodovskya told me who was taking care of Yuri, I couldn’t believe it. Olympic champions. Yekarina used to love to watch you skate.”

Yuuri jumped a little in surprise when he realized the man was addressing him, not his husband. “Me?”

“You were her favorite. She said you had something vulnerable and authentic about the way you skated. She wanted to skate like that, too. We even went to Japan to see you skate once.”

“Did you really?” Yuuri gasped, shocked. “When?”

“I don’t know. Sometime after Varvara died. Breast cancer. The girls were fifteen. We couldn’t stand to stay in the house without her, and we had never been to Japan. When the girls were young, we took them traveling whenever we could. Ukraine, Poland, Sweden, Canada. Varvara and Yelena loved France, but Yekarina always wanted to go to Japan or Korea. We had the money for it, but for some reason we never went. Before I retired, I worked as an overseer in a construction company and managed to move up in it, and I never saw the point in sitting on money instead of spending it. You can’t take it with you when you die anyway. Sure, I put some away for the girls and Varvara when her treatment came, but I wanted to make sure Yelena went to the schools she wanted and had the best private tutors. Yekarina had great coaches and private rink time. I just wanted them to be happy.”

“I’m sure you’re a wonderful father.” Viktor patted the man’s knee. The grandfather took a deep breath, still watching Yuri, before continuing. Yuuri had the feeling that Nikolai had wanted to tell someone, anyone, all of this. The skater doubted the old man had had any visitors in a long time, and the meeting had somehow taken on the atmosphere of a confessional.

“After Varvara passed away… things… changed. Maybe I buckled down too hard on the girls. I don’t know. I just wanted to keep us together, but a couple years later, Yekarina was driving home from practice and got in a wreck. It was no one’s fault, but she died anyway. After that, Yelena was never the same. She left school and got mixed up in a bad crowd and drugs. I couldn’t do anything for her, or at least that’s what I told myself. I cut her off financially to try to make her come to her senses, but I don’t know if that worked. The next thing I knew, she was coming back home, three months pregnant.”

“How old was she when she had him?” Viktor asked.

“Twenty-one. Too young. She wasn’t ready. To be honest, I don’t know if she’ll ever be ready. I started giving her a monthly allowance after Yurachka was born, and things were good for a while, but it didn’t last long. One day I woke up, and they were gone. I didn’t hear from Yelena for more than six months. For the past year, though, she’d been doing well. Or, at least I thought she was.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Yuuri cleared his throat. “How did you know something was wrong? Why did you report Yelena?”

“There wasn’t any one moment I can point to.” Nikolai scratched his head, trying to find the right words. “She stopped calling as often. She didn’t take my calls. At first I didn’t really notice, but then I realized I heard from her in month. The past few times I was able to get in touch with her, she wouldn’t let me talk to Yuri. Every time she said he was sleeping, but she wouldn’t let me see him. Before then, he’d been getting quieter. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I noticed it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It broke my heart to call, but I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. I really hoped that I was wrong, that they would go check on them and they’d both be fine, but I think I knew deep down that wasn’t true. I couldn’t help her when Yekarina died, but I could help him. When Mrs. Lodovskya told me what Yelena had done, I didn’t want to believe it. He’s just a child. I just want him to be safe.”

“He’s safe with us,” Viktor promised.

“Yes,” Nikolai smiled. “I know he is.”

* * *

 

They stayed with Nikolai all afternoon, playing with Yuri, who opened up as the afternoon wore on and he became more comfortable around his grandfather. Nikolai seemed overjoyed to have Yuri with him and couldn’t keep his eyes off the boy. After eating dinner together, the foster family finally decided to go back to their hotel. Since Yuri hadn’t taken his usual nap, his energy began to flag after they had eaten.

“You were so good today,” Viktor praised him once they had said their goodbyes to Nikolai and were in the cab back to the hotel. “Wasn’t he good?”

“So good,” Yuuri smiled back. “You didn’t cry or whine at all today, did you?” The skater had to bounce his knees where the sleepy boy was sitting to get his attention.

“I was good.”

“And you ate your dinner, too!” Viktor added. “And you shared your toys with Dedushka and let him touch your hair.”

“That was really brave, angel.” Yuuri squeezed him in a little hug. “We’re so proud of you. How about when we get to the hotel, we have bath time, and I’ll give you your surprise?”

The gift he and Viktor had gotten him was bath crayons. Since Yuri loved bath time and coloring, it only made sense to get him the colorful, soft soaps. As tired as he was, Yuri screeched in delight at his new toy and covered the huge bathtub in bright scribbles.

“He really is precious, isn’t he?” Yuuri asked in a hush some time later when Yuri had been put to bed. He and Viktor were gathered around the crib, watching the child sleep. As always, Yuri slept with Kotonok under his arm and his thumb in his mouth. His new bunny rabbit toy was tucked safely under his other arm, completing the picture.

“He is,” Viktor agreed, wrapping his arm around his husband and pulling him close. “He’s perfect.”

Yuuri nodded. “I love him so much. It hasn’t even been a month, but now I can’t imagine not having him in our lives, you know?”

“He’s such a light, even on his bad days when he throws up all day or has tantrums. I love him, too.

“I only wish he had been brought to us earlier, when he was first born,” Yuuri said as they left the bedroom to go through their nightly routines themselves. “Then he would really be ours.”

“He is really ours,” insisted Viktor. “We love him like he’s ours, don’t we? Then he’s ours.”

“That simple?”

“That simple. And I love you, too.” Viktor tilted Yuuri’s head up to kiss him. “Every time I see you with him, I find myself loving you both more and more.”

“I love you, too. I can’t help thinking of how lucky I am to have you both.”

“Now who’s the cheesy one?” the coach teased. Yuuri kissed him anyway.

It wasn’t cheesy or inauthentic if he really did feel that way, and he knew that he did. If he could go back in time ten years to tell his former self that this was his future, he wouldn’t have believed it. It was too perfect, too much like a fairy tale, and not one of those gruesome ones Viktor loved so much. He married his own personal prince charming and had the most beautiful child in the world who needed him and deserved so much happiness. It was magical, so when Yuuri woke to the sound of Yuri crying in the middle of the night, it didn’t break his heart for once. He knew what to do. He picked the little boy up out of the crib and carried him to back to his own bed to sleep between Viktor and himself, all together, right where they belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and being patient in terms of updates. As many of you have probably heard, Hurricane Harvey devastated a large portion of southeast Texas, leaving many people displaced as their homes were flooded. I also live in the affected area, and while I have been much luckier than many, the damage to my home may impede my posts here. Please be patient with me; I promise more fics are coming! As always, thank you for reading! If you have any ideas or suggestions for this series, feel free to leave them in the comments here or contact on Tumblr at bambirosesavage. 
> 
> Love you all! Stay safe!!


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